Thanks to: Niana Kuonji, because she's the only one who reviewed the last chapter.
Notes: The beginning of this chapter was in no way, shape, or form taken from Magic's Price. It was just the natural continuation of the end of last chapter. Neither was Melles' plan to turn Valdemar and company into a crater filled with water. I just thought that was a neat way to KO everything Misty loves and cares about.
And please, for the love of whatever you find holy, review!
Attn: there is now self-produced horrible fanart up on my Deviantart page under Scraps. My username is Silverstrings. Go and see it and groan at my horrid drawing skills! That is all.
This chapter was written while listening to soundtracks from Shadow of the Colossus and Chrono Trigger.
The sun is casting shadows
an afternoon is fading
I ask, but no one knows
the answer to the question
my life is like an island
where does this ocean go?
Yoko Kanno's Where Does This Ocean Go?
Chapter 34: The Sun is Casting Shadows
Rowen awoke from an uneasy sleep punctured by incessant bouts of wakefulness, and when he rose from his bedding, he noticed that Julian was still asleep.
A growl threatened to rise from his throat when he realized how peaceful the Bard looked, curled upon the pallet and warmed by the thought of who knew what.
He removed himself from the room to go clean up in the bath in the center of the ekele, then took himself off for some breakfast in the dining hall.
He managed to get a palatable meal of a large serving of vegetables and a huge bowl of porridge and brought it to a table in the corner to enjoy it.
The potage was halfway gone when a shadow imposed itself across the bowl, turning the mixture a pale gray.
Julian?
"Horseman. Didn't think I'd see you again." Standing over the bench on the other side of the table was Shored. Well, Shored and presumably Tenri and Jaron.
"Shored?"
Green eyes shaded with a hint of what looked like relief blinked, then the corners of his mouth curved up in a slight, tight smile as he said in Valdemaran, "No. It's me, Jaron."
The boy had grown at least four inches since Rowen had seen him last. "Ah."
Silence reigned, then Jaron dropped down onto the bench on the other side of the table.
Curious glances that had been thrown their way by Trainees stopped quickly when Jaron looked around. There hadn't been any menacing or threatening expression on his face or in his eyes, but the students had found something else to look at very quickly.
"They're all afraid of me," Jaron said dully, setting down a plate of pancakes.
"Why?"
"I'm a freak. I've got two other people living in my head. You don't think that's a little creepy?" Jaron asked, eyes flashing, daring Rowen to say something.
"Creepy, yes. Scary--not quite unless you decide to throw knives around again."
Jaron refused to meet his eyes, and Rowen realized that that was exactly what had happened.
"I got caught up in a memory flash," he said. "The Healers call them flashbacks, and they're awful. I never know where I am or what I'm doing while I'm in them, and when I come out I'm always screaming and sometimes there are knives dancing in the air. Sometimes it happens when I'm in class, and I can't--I can't control it, and it's so hard."
"I know," Rowen murmured, though he really didn't know.
Jaron continued. "And they stare. All the time. Gaelan says it will stop, but as long as the flashbacks continue they'll all be afraid of me."
"I can't really help you there. Have they met Shored and Tenri?"
"Tenri's afraid of everyone here, and I'm afraid to let him out even if he wanted too. You know how he...gets..." Jaron mimed touching his own lips, then hugged himself.
Rowen nodded. "I can see how that would be a problem." Was he always this aware, this intelligent? Jaron had been created at this age, but obviously he had developed in more than body while he'd been at Haven.
"I don't know about Shored. I would assume he's using the body when I'm not, but he hasn't really said much about Haven. I think he spends most of his time with Gaelan anyway; whenever he gives the body back I'm always outside in the Field with him."
"How are you settling in?"
"Well enough, I think."
"Your grasp of Valdemaran has improved," Rowen noted.
"Gee, thanks. Gaelan had one of the not-deer put language and memories into my head of what I had to do to fit in here." He paused. "It gave me a rather big headache, and the fitting-in part didn't help."
Jaron sighed. "I don't like it much here, but there's nowhere else for me. I can't go back to the Empire, and even if I could I would never give up Gaelan."
Rowen didn't know much about Heralds and didn't really care to find out, but he knew enough to know that that simple sentence was good. At least he's got that. And that shows that he is in fact accepting the fact that Gaelan is his partner now.
As Rowen watched, Jaron gave him a long glance. "Shored's coming," he said faintly, then the Changechild watched in astonishment as the boy's eyes changed from jade-green to amethyst, and without a word, Shored began to dig into the plate that Jaron had left entirely untouched. After a few moments of watching him wolf down food, Rowen ventured a quiet, "Shored?"
The boy looked up, a piece of flapjack edge dangling from his lips. He slurped it in then smiled at Rowen. "Hi Lord Rowen."
Lord?
"The food is really good here," Shored said. "Have you tried it?"
Rowen gestured at his own bowl, left alone since Jaron had sat down. It was probably growing cold, and he hated to waste food.
He dug in with a vigor he didn't feel, keeping one wary eye on Shored. While he somewhat trusted Jaron and his maturity and hold on the body, Shored didn't have that much of a grip on who controlled their actions, and Tenri could come through at any moment.
Rowen shuddered at the thought of the ruined child, who had not so long ago tried to seduce him, and lost more of his appetite. He spooned up more of the congealing porridge, determined to finish all of it and leave.
Shored continued to eat like the young child he mentally was, and the stares from around the dining hall began anew once people realized that Jaron was gone.
When there was nothing left in Rowen's bowl of porridge but the dregs, he started in on the vegetables, and bolted them down so fast that he was sure he'd be sick later. Carrots, celery, lettuce, potatoes, tomatoes; he swallowed them as fast as he could chew, then ate more.
Plate empty, Rowen sighed a little gustily.
"You are done?" Shored stared in awe at Rowen's dishes, then jumped up despite his remaining pancakes and two apples. "I am done too!"
No... Rowen suppressed a groan and stood up, picking up his bowl and plate. The silverware was already inside. "I have some things I need to do," he lied, and Shored turned puppy eyes on him.
"But I can help. Please let me help?"
"I don't know if you can really--"
"Please?" Shored's eyes at this angle looked almost like Nadar's, and Rowen's stomach lurched.
"Alright," he scowled. "But stop looking at me like that."
Shored smiled, then grabbed his own plate. He started walking toward the window to deposit his own dishes, then turned his head to look at Rowen.
The Changechild didn't move. I do not want to be around this child, he thought miserably. Then his attention was caught by his dishes lifting out of his hands and drifting over to Shored, who grabbed them out of the air, giggling. He turned to bring them to the window as Rowen stood next to the table, bemused.
That power...
His sensitive ears caught a few snatches of whispers around the room.
"Kernos' Balls, did you see that?"
And, "Yeah, but he seems very friendly. Right?"
"But that scary boy lives inside his head."
"Yeah, I heard he's not sane."
"Do you think he might just finally lose it and kill us all?"
"I heard he made knives out of nothing the other day in Religions."
And, "Well I heard he's stuck like that."
"Stuck like what?"
"Stuck at that age in his mind."
"What?!"
"Yeah, something about severe emotional trauma."
"Oh."
"Go ask him about it."
"You go ask him about it!"
"I'm not going near him!"
"So why should I?"
Shored came back, then led Rowen out of the room, seemingly oblivious to the glances and whispers.
"I do hate it in there," he said conversationally as they walked along the corridor leading away from the dining hall. Several Healer Trainees that had been walking towards them laughing quieted and looked down until they had passed.
"I don't think Shored minds all the stares that much, but they drive me up the wall."
"Huh?"
"I said, I don't think he minds that much. He's just a kid--"
"Jaron, do you think you could you warn me a little next time you're going to pop up, please?" Rowen asked.
"Fine."
They continued in silence for a little bit, then Jaron bit his lip. "Can I ask you something?"
"Ask away," Rowen said. It wasn't really like he had anywhere to be or anything do to, despite what he'd told Tenri.
"How do you... how do you tell a girl you like her?" Jaron asked, blushing furiously.
Rowen almost laughed. "Why? Do you like someone?"
"She's a Herald-Trainee, like me," Jaron explained. "Her name is Sharise, and she's very pretty. She's the only one who is willing to talk to me."
"Have you asked Gaelan about it?" Rowen asked, thinking that these were questions that he really didn't want to get into in case it didn't work out for the boy.
"He said that he was above such things, and that he didn't really know how to help me."
He wouldn't, Rowen thought sourly.
"Your teachers?"
"I don't think they like me."
Oh, Kal'enel.
"Well," he began. "Do you know if she likes you?"
"I don't know how to tell."
"This could take a while..."
o
"I don't think the addition of more troops onto the border is going to strengthen our hold in any way," the Lord Marshall observed. "Pulling more troops from around the country is just going to weaken areas that need protecting. The Border is secure."
"But we need to show the Empire that we're not just a paltry--"
Herald Reshan entered the room not a little quickly, moving immediately to Herald Kyril's side. She leaned down and whispered something into Kyril's ear, and the Speaker went white. "Majesty, I believe we need to move this into the Great Hall.
"Why?" Lady Ophelia demanded. "There is no poin--"
"The King of Hardorn is at our gates, and as a King he requires a royal welcoming," Kyril snapped.
Ophelia went ashen, and Selenay stood. "This meeting is adjourned for the day."
She swept out of the room, Daren, Kyril, and Reshan hot on her heels.
Rowen blinked. The King of Hardorn was here?
o
"And so if we move here and here, we should be able to catch that part of the divided Army in a pincer, and then if the Haighlei move around here, the rest of the Army should move like so, and then we can--"
Tremane watched Selenay nod, and then the Lord Marshall reached out to adjust a piece.
"As it is, the Haighlei will need at least two weeks to move their ships up the coast and be in a position to launch an attack, and then we can try to intimidate the Empire into surrender."
"Why not just use a Gate?" Tremane suggested, and most of the people at the table turned to stare at him like he was some sort of idiot.
"A Gate," one of the Blue Mountain mage-teachers stated flatly.
Tremane nodded.
"Are you mad?" the man asked. "One mage can barely open one small Gate in a fixed location nowadays. You want to use a Gate to transport an entire fleet of Haighlei ships from one ocean to another?"
"Why not?" Tremane asked. "It's plausible."
"It can be done," said the Haighlei Ambassador.
Tremane's question to him was lost in a flurry of questions from other people around the table about where, when, and how it could be done.
Tremane raised his hands for silence, and the table quieted.
"There is an arch that used to be part of an ancient harbor near the coastal city of Lastana. I saw it once when I was traveling with my Mentor, and it was one of the first places I worked on Gating." He could still see it in his mind's eye; a huge arch built out of a sea cliff wall, impressive in both height and lack of erosion. Even from the shore he could still see some of what original carving hadn't been worn away by the constant flow of the wind and the tides.
"I never saw an arch like that," the Hardorn mage Senek said. When Tremane looked at him, he flushed and remembered that while Tremane had once been a colleague and the leader of a small town in a snowbound, monster-infested country, he was now the King of Hardorn.
"It's alright," Tremane said. "It was hidden in a large cliff wall south on the coast. I believe it may have been connected to the ancient kingdom of Telonia, since they were primarily a seagoing kingdom."
"So?" Councilor Wythern huffed.
"So they were also impressive builders of harbors. Many of their structures still stand along the Eastern coast of the Empire. The arch I am considering is a very sturdy arch and has stood for more than three thousand years. It wasn't built or preserved using magic and it should have stayed steady during the mage storms. One of my Farseers can check."
"And if it's still there?" Selenay asked, looking interested.
"Then the Haighlei can sail through it and attack the Empire from the East, saving crucial time it would take for them to sail around the Horn."
"Can you build a Gate that large?"
Tremane paused. Could they?
The Haighlei Ambassador spoke. "We can."
"But the logistics--it's impossible!" Darkwind exclaimed, looking both alarmed and intrigued. "It can't be done!"
"It can and it will be," the man named Ayize said levelly. "As long as King Tremane can see it in his mind, we can build it."
"But," the Blue Mountain mage said weakly. "It's impossible."
"It is not."